


Harnessed Heat

by eeyore9990



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mating Cycles/In Heat, play mating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2458760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lydia shows up at the loft, soaking wet and screaming, she's being guided by instincts more powerful than that of the banshee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harnessed Heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuickLikeLight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickLikeLight/gifts).



> Still enthralled with this glorious trope.
> 
> Also, I can't recall Braeden ever meeting Lydia before this moment in canon. So. I could be wrong, but the assumption in this fic is that she's never met Lydia and didn't realize Beacon Hills had a banshee.

Braeden pumps her shotgun, bracing it against her hip as she nods to Derek, who looks far too jumpy for the 9mm in his hand. Pressing her lips together, Braeden spares a moment to mourn the loss of Derek’s extra senses. It’d be nice to know if he smells animal or gun oil on the other side of the door. Derek steps forward and pushes the loft door open, never lowering his weapon — she’ll have to congratulate him for not losing his composure later — and then they both freeze because standing on the other side of the door is a young girl, maybe late teens, hair streaming with water from the storm outside.

She looks lost, pale, shaken, and then her eyes lock on Derek and she _screams_.

Braeden steps in front of her, breaking the girl’s line of sight but not lowering her shotgun. She’s still not sure if they’re dealing with friend or foe here, even though Derek’s relaxed his stance and is looking a little wide-eyed.

"Lydia?" he asks, and the sound of her name cuts through the girl’s screams, makes her drag in a ragged breath. She looks at Derek, eyes watering in that way Braeden had only seen happen in the movies. Instead of turning her ugly and red and snotty, the girl’s beauty is magnified by her emotion.

Derek’s nostrils twitch and his whole body jerks backward in shock. Braeden cocks her head, studying him for the moment because the girl doesn’t appear to be a threat. “What is it?” she asks, steel in her voice. 

Sometimes she has to lead Derek by the nose. It’s a good thing he’s so pretty. 

He coughs out a breath and looks at her. “She’s… _in heat_.” Then he shakes his head wildly, nose wrinkling. “Can’t you smell it?”

Braeden turns back to the girl, looking at her with interest. She’s not a wolf. Braeden doesn’t know _what_ she is, but she knows this girl isn’t a were-anything. “Cover me,” she tells Derek, voice firm.

His arm twitches, and he looks torn. Like he’s not sure who he should point his weapon at.

Braeden sighs. “I don’t know what she is, and I’m not taking chances. The last time I took chances, my throat got sliced for my trouble. So cover me.”

Though still looking reluctant, he raises his gun again, pointing it center of mass. Braeden nods her approval and jacks the loaded shells out of the chamber of her shotgun before propping it against the wall, muzzle up, because she’s not the kind of idiot who’d go around digging her barrel into the ground*.

Stepping toward Lydia, she raises her hand, cupping her cheek, and turns her face so that she can see those eyes. They’re green, almost _otherworldly_ green. Red hair… that scream… “Is she a banshee?”

"Yeah."

"Okay, sweetheart," she says, drawing Lydia further into the room with just the curve of her fingertips under that pretty, feminine jaw. "Come on. Come with me. We’ll take care of you." Braeden looks at Derek and says, "You trust her?"

"With my life."

"But do you trust her with _mine_?” Braeden isn’t going to be fooled by pretty words. Derek has never struck her as someone who places any value on his own life. Being even tangentially responsible for their pack’s death will do that to a wolf. “Do I need you to stay and stand guard over us with your gun to her head?” 

Derek flinches, his head already shaking before she can finish the question. “No. She… she’s pack.”

"Ah." Braeden looks at the girl with new interest. She must be the Hale family’s wailing woman. Braeden glances at Derek, wonders how much he knows about banshees, then dismisses it as inconsequential for the moment. They have an issue that must be dealt with immediately. "Lydia," she says, voice still firm, commanding, "have you gone into heat before? Rut, maybe?"

Lydia stares back at her like she’s never even heard these terms before, and Braeden spits out a curse, because of fucking course. The idiots in this town let the girl come into her power without explaining _anything_. Braeden shoots a narrow-eyed glare at Derek before realizing he probably knows less than Braeden does about the supernatural. He’d been a kid himself, and a beta at that, when his pack died, taking all their knowledge and history with them.

Deaton’s the one who deserves the bulk of her ire.

"Tell me how you’re feeling," Braeden says, slipping her hand down to press fingers against Lydia’s throat, feeling the pulse there. It’s rapid, thready, her skin over-warm. At the touch, Lydia tips her head back, a low, sulty moan falling from her lips.

Braeden focuses on those lips and realizes… yeah. She actually has no problem helping this girl. It’s going to be amazing feeling that plump, wide mouth against hers.

"I feel… sick. Hot. But I can’t stop shaking like I’m cold. What’s wrong with me?"

Braeden smoothes her damp hair back from her forehead and curves her other hand around the back of Lydia’s neck. “Magic manifests in a variety of ways,” she says, keeping her voice light and steady. “But the most common among all supernatural creatures is mating magic. Your body will go into heat and seek out a mate.”

"But I came… here."

"Yes. Your magic is tied to the Hale family. The last two Hales in town are Derek and Peter—"

At Peter’s name, Lydia flinches violently, struggling against Braeden’s hold.

"Shh. I know he’s a creep. We’re not going to let him near you." Braeden places a soft kiss against Lydia’s cheek, attempting to dredge up some comforting instinct that had long been burned out of her by necessity.

Instead of calming, though, a flush of heat crawls up Lydia’s neck and splashes color into her cheeks, making her already bright eyes nearly glow. A low, thrumming sound rises from her throat and Lydia lunges forward, her open mouth sliding over Braeden’s, her entire body writhing like a cat. Her fingers are curled into claws, tearing at Braeden’s bra and panties, though she doesn’t have the coherency to do more than pull the material off-center.

Fingers digging into Lydia’s hair, Braeden forces her back, licking a line up Lydia’s neck to calm her before she looks at Derek — who’s standing there, stunned, his cheeks flushed but still holding his gun on Lydia — and says, “Time for you to leave now, sweetheart. You might want to find somewhere else to stay for a day or two.”

He drops his arms, safetying his weapon, and licks his lips. “You sure? I could stay and…”

Braeden laughs, shaking her head even as Lydia’s hips begin rocking against her bare thigh, low moans rising in the air. God, Derek would have been _such_ a frat bro if his life had gone differently. “If you want to jerk off to girl-on-girl porn, go find it online. You’re not getting it here.” She’s only going to take advantage as far as she has to in an effort to help this poor girl through a heat she’d had no idea was coming. She’s not going to let her suffer, but she’s not going to take anything from it either.

Braeden remembers a pack down in Arizona, remembers how they’d encouraged the young ones to play mate to burn off their heats without suffering the prolonged consequences of actual mating. That… that’s something she can use here. 

Besides. Braeden’s human. It’s not like she’s going to be able to knot Lydia up nice and tight, pump her full of seed.

The slamming of the loft door pulls Braeden out of her thoughts and refocuses her attention on the young girl falling apart in her arms. She grabs Lydia by the hips, stills their restlessness, and guides her to the bed. The fall onto it in a graceless heap, and Braeden spares a moment to be grateful Lydia’s senses aren’t as fine-tuned as a were’s because she’s sure the sheets smell strongly of the sex she and Derek have been indulging in as often as possible.

But Lydia just arches back into the bed, hair spread out below her in damp clumps, eyes locked on Braeden as she hovers over the girl. Lydia moans, the sound a pleading mewl, eyes squeezing shut as she writhes in need, searching out friction wherever she can get it.

Braeden drops her head in a nod, licking her lips as she takes in the body moving so sensually under her. “I’m going to take care of you, baby girl. Get you through this, okay? But your clothes are going to stay on because I’m not the monster I’m beginning to wish I was. This is just… practice. Okay?”

Lydia cries, pawing at Braeden, tears flowing over her lower lashes and sliding down her temples to add to the moisture already in her hair. Apparently she’s not satisfied with this being _practice._ Face red, mouth open and panting, she snarls through her tears, fingers almost cruel as they bite into Braeden’s hips, pulling at her fiercely.

"Next time," Braeden promises. "Next time, sweet girl, if you come back to me, I’m going to strap on my harness and fuck you so good. Just open you up and pound into you until don’t even know your own name. And then you’re going to use that beautiful mouth and learn how to take care of me like I’m taking care of you. Learn how to suck on my clit." Shoving a fist between their slotted hips, Braeden grinds her hips against it, pushing it into Lydia who lets out a keening noise that’s almost as loud as her earlier death wail had been.

Lydia gasps, shoving up so hard Braeden’s worried that she’ll bruise herself. She’s nearly wrenching Braeden’s wrist, teeth flashing in the dim light and a low growl rising up her throat. But Braeden isn’t so far gone that she’s going to let the girl hurt herself, so she withdraws her hand, ignoring the howls of frustrated pleasure ringing off the walls.

Kneeling up, Braeden flips Lydia and pulls her into Braeden’s lap. Shoving one hand down between Lydia’s legs, she reaches beneath her skirt and rubs her hard and fast through her panties. Her other hands cups Lydia’s breast, rolling the nipple through the material of her shirt and bra until Lydia’s whole body is rocking, her cries so loud in Braeden’s ear. 

Lydia digs her nails into Braeden’s skin, ripping at the flesh on her arms as she goes wild, body thrashing through an orgasm, made animalistic by the heat flushing her body. When she comes down from it, her hips continue to roll in little, needy motions, but she sighs languidly, stretching back into the curve of Braeden’s body.

"Is it over?" she asks, her voice sweet and mellow, thick with satisfaction.

"Mmm, no." Braeden places a soft kiss to her neck. "Just satisfied for the moment. It’ll be a few days before it’s gone for this season." Hooking her chin over Lydia’s shoulder, she asks softly, "Is there a boyfriend or girlfriend you want me to call?"

Lydia sighs, slumping against Braeden. “No. There’s no one. Do you mind…?”

"I don’t start things I’m unprepared to finish."

"And you and Derek?" Lydia turns her head, trying to look at Braeden.

"Not something you need to worry about."

Lydia pulls away with a soft noise, strips her clothes away languidly before laying back, legs spread unselfconsciously. Dragging her hands up and down her body, she blinks up at Braeden with a smug little smile pulling at her lips. “Then you might want to get that harness you were teasing me with.”

Braeden laughs, shouldering her way between Lydia’s thighs and licking slowly between her labia and gathering up Lydia’s flavor on her tongue. “I’m not fucking you tonight, baby girl. But when I said I’d take care of you,” she pauses to suck Lydia’s clit between her lips, “I meant it.”

**Author's Note:**

> *It still bothers the hell out of me that they had Braeden do that in the finale.


End file.
